


Sweet Dreams are Made of This

by MotherOfPenguins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crappy Monster of the Week, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Post-Michael!Dean, Sex, Smut, Some Emotional Hurt/Comfort toward the end, Some angst, Vaginal Sex, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 02:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15524511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherOfPenguins/pseuds/MotherOfPenguins
Summary: Garth says there's a hunter that needs some help with djinn. Well, *that* escalated quickly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. 
> 
> I own nothing but Dylan.

Dean's phone rang and he answered, “Hey Garth.” He was quiet for a minute then pressed a button and put it on the table. “You're on speaker.”

“Hey Sam.” Garth said. “Well, like I said I got a case for you guys right in your backyard. A hunter, Dylan Sanderson, needs some backup with a nest of djinn in Broken Bow. Nebraska, not Oklahoma.”

“Sure thing, man. Just text us the details.” Sam told him.

“Thanks, fellas. I'd go myself, but I've got my hands full over here.”

“No problem. Later, man.” Dean hung up and they both went to pack up. 

 

\----

 

Once in Broken Bow, they made their way to the Wagon Wheel Motel to where the hunter was staying. But when they knocked on the room Garth had given them, a beautiful woman answered. She was a head shorter than Dean with dark hair and warm red-brown skin that sat at odds with her blue eyes . 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Sam began, “we must have the wrong…”

“You the Winchesters?” She interrupted him. They glanced at each other. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, “we're looking for Dylan?” 

She just stepped aside and let them in. 

“I'm Dylan. And before you start, yes, that can be a woman's name. Now that we've established that’s strange, can we move on?” Sam and Dean looked at each other again and shrugged. 

“Okay. I’m Dean, this is Sam. Now, Garth said you needed help with some Djinn?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah.” She said. “I've been following one since Topeka, but he met up with a group here. There's at least 3.” She went over to the table where a laptop was open. She turned it around to show a window depicting an empty bar or club.

“Is that… a live feed?” Sam asked, incredulous. 

“Sure is. Inconspicuous cameras are ridiculously easy to get hold of these days. People kept turning up missing from this bar. They seem to be getting their victims from here. Like I said, I've spotted three. So far.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, people randomly passing out after someone touches them is kind of a dead giveaway. For us anyway.”

“To other people, the vics are just drunk.” Sam mused.

“Monsters. They get smarter all the time.” She agreed. “There's no telling how long they've been at this. Maybe not here, but other places too. I'm concerned about the number of people they've taken too. 5 in the last week from the looks of it. The two I saw the other night were a couple. Just dropped in the middle of the dance floor and two djinn carried him, one carried her, right out the door.”

She turned the laptop back to her and clicked a few times. When she turned it back around there were two windows that were obviously a recording, one showing the inside of the club again, this time full of people and another showing the parking lot. A blacked out SUV pulled up. While they watched, two people dropped slightly and were carried by three people who'd been nearby to the door and out to the SUV which then pulled away. With no tags. 

“Son of a bitch.” Dean swore. 

“This place is only this busy on Saturdays. And 3 other people went missing from here on Saturday two weeks ago. People who won't be looked for. Not really. Couples and groups. Loved ones just assume they left on a whim. But I don't know where they've been before to know how much longer they'll be here.”

“And once they’re gone, we’ll have a hard time tracking them down again.” Sam added. She nodded at him.

“So what’re we thinking?” Dean asked.

“Well, I think the best way to find their little secret hideout is for them to take us there.” Dean just looked at her. He didn’t like where he thought she was going.

“And why would they do that?” He said flatly.

“Because we’d look so tasty.” She said simply. She grinned a little. “Two of us go as a snack, wait to get grabbed, then the third follows the car.”

“That still leaves one person and a minimum of three djinn.” Sam pointed out.

“Well, the way Garth talks about you guys, that shouldn’t be a problem, right? Besides, can’t we wake ourselves up?” Sam grimaced.

“It’s not that easy.” Dean grunted. “Not like I’m backing this plan, but just who do you suggest goes as bait, huh? And which sorry sucker gets the suicide mission of charging in there, not knowing whether they have backup or not?”

“You go.” Sam said. Dean looked taken aback.

“What?”

“You go as bait. You have more experience with djinn venom than anybody here and shouldn’t have a problem waking up.” Sam reasoned. 

“I’m thinking Sam is right. Besides, he’s so big that they’d need more than two of them to carry him out so they’d probably pick someone else.” Dylan suggested.

“I can’t believe you’re going along with this.” Dean aimed at Sam.

“You got a better plan? Garth says she knows what she’s doing.” Sam shot back. Dean sighed.

“Fine. But you said they only grab people on Saturdays. It’s Thursday. So what do we do until then, sit around and wait while the people they’ve already taken die?”

“Recon. You and I head in tonight and take a look around. I doubt they just show up on nights they take people, it’d be too hard to not look suspicious, happening to be there every time people disappear. Sam can stay here and watch from my laptop.” Sam looked at Dean and shrugged. They both stood up. “Be back around 7?” She asked. They nodded and left to go get a room. 

 

\---

Dean had just gotten out of the shower and was glaring at the mirror when Sam looked up, saw him and laughed. “Dude. It’s a club, not a firing squad.”

“A club, Sam, a club. I’m almost 40 years old, I’m too old to be going to clubs. It’s not like I liked going to them in my 20s.”

“What’s the big deal? You have no problem going to bars.” Sam realized something and laughed. “Oh my god. Dancing.” 

“I don’t dance Sam.” Sam laughed harder. “What?!” Sam just shook his head and kept laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character limits, whatcha gonna do?
> 
> I still have no idea what I'm doing.

At 7, they made their way back to Dylan’s room, this time, when she answered the door, where she had been beautiful before, in a t-shirt and jeans, now she was a knockout. Dean looked down at his usual clothes, now feeling underdressed. She was looking too. She shrugged. 

“Lose the flannel.” She told him. Dean muttered the entire time while he took off his jacket, then the flannel shirt underneath, leaving the t-shirt, and then putting the jacket back on. She shook her head. “Jacket too. It’s kinda ratty.” He sighed in exasperation, then handed his shirt and jacket to Sam. She gave him an appraising look and then nodded. “Better.” She moved to let Sam into the room. “Feed’s up, room key is on the table, in case you need to step out.” Sam nodded and headed inside, clapping his brother on the shoulder with a grin as he went. Dean just scowled. They made their way to the Impala. “Well, that should make an impression.” She said as he opened the passenger door for her. He looked surprised. She was still standing there, not getting in.

“What?” She grinned.

“The car. It stands out.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” He nodded and gestured for her to get in. He left her to close her own door and got in himself, then she gave him directions to the club. When they got there, it was already filling up. They made their way to the bar and found a couple of stools. After they got their drinks, there was a few moments of awkward silence.

“So…. how do you know Garth?” Dean asked while she looked around. She stiffened a little.

“He helped me out a few years ago.” Dean nodded. He went to the next, to him, logical, question.

“How long have you been hunting?”

“...a few years.” At that, Dean decided to drop the subject, getting the gist of the situation. He let her take the lead from there. “You seem a lot more uncomfortable than Garth let on.”

“Huh?”

“Garth described you as a kind of ladies man. But I haven’t picked up on any of that legendary charm he mentioned.”

“I don’t generally flirt during a hunt. Sam gets a little weirded out if I do.” She nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“Ah, you’re a funny guy, then. Well, we’re not actively hunting anything right this second. We’ve got to have a little fun, or they will never believe we’re a couple.” She pointed out before taking a sip of her drink. She grinned again. “Lighten up on the brooding.” Dean sighed and shook himself a little and tried to look at her as a woman rather than a hunter.

“You do look amazing.”

“Attaboy. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She finished her drink and looked behind her at the dance floor. He panicked a little. “We probably should go out there, but I’m terrible.” He breathed a sigh of relief inside.

“Trust me, you’re probably great in comparison.” But, to his own surprise, he stood up and offered his hand. She took it, looking impressed, and they made their way to the middle of the small crowd. Once there they both bobbed awkwardly together. After a few songs, a slower one came on and people started pairing off or drifting off the floor. Dean sighed with relief. “Finally, something I can do.” He pulled her in close and wrapped an arm around her. She gave him the impressed look again. 

“You do not disappoint. Very smooth.” He was finally starting to feel relaxed. He grinned cockily back.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, sweetheart.” the song ended and he gave her a quick dip. She laughed and then kissed him before he knew what was happening. It lasted just long enough for him to decide to kiss back, then she pulled away. 

“That should do it.” She said quietly. He was a little shell shocked. He’d almost forgotten they were supposed to be looking for monsters. He glanced around pointlessly. Nobody was really looking at them, and it’s not like they’d stand out on sight. The music picked up again and Dean felt is phone vibrate. He checked his phone. A text from Sam.

Man, you really CAN’T dance.

Dean looked around the room, trying to figure out where the camera was from the angles. He took his best guess and aimed his middle finger in the general direction of where he thought it was. She laughed.

“Sam have something to say?”

“Usually.” Dean said distractedly. After about half dozen more songs, Dean suggested he go get more drinks. While he was waiting at the bar he checked his phone again. And stopped. Confused. The time still read what it had when Sam texted. But it had been almost half an hour. At least. He looked around. 

“What?” Dylan asked. 

“What time is it?” he asked her.

“Got a date?” She asked humorously. But when he didn’t smile back, she sighed. “I don’t know, I left my phone back at the house.”

“You gotta be…. Wait. Back where?”

“The house. My house. The place I live?”

“You’re talking about the motel right?” She looked a little worried.

“What motel? My house, Dean. Somewhere we might need to be going. Maybe you’ve drank too much.” Dean straightened his back. 

“I’ve only had one drink. What are we doing here?” She nodded in a somewhat condescending way.

“Uh-huh, sure. Come on. Let’s go, Dr. Smooth.” She started pushing him to the door. Once outside, Dean was still pretty disoriented. This was weird, right? But once they got to the Impala, and he opened the passenger door for her, she looked at him like he was crazy. “Uh, no. You’re not driving.” She held her hand out for the keys. He returned the look.

“Hey, you’re gorgeous, and I might even like you, but you’re not driving Baby.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, neither are you. I called an Uber.” She looked down at her phone and then at a car that pulled in. What the? When had she had time to-? “There we go. Come on, old man. Let’s get you to bed.” Dean was not at all sure about that one, and while he tried to figure out what was happening, she pulled him to the vehicle and inside. 

“Everybody ok?” The driver asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” She answered. Dean was still trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe he was drunk after all. Did he block out all the other drinks? He’d done that before. But she was acting a lot more familiar with him than she had before. But pushy didn’t seem to be out of her wheelhouse. “What are you looking at?” She asked playfully. Apparently he’d been staring at her the whole time. He shook his head.

“No- nothing.” Then he realized he didn’t recognize the street they were on. Or the driveway they pulled into. Or the tiny house it belonged to. But she nudged him to get out anyway and he obliged without thinking. She thanked the driver and promised a good review before she closed the door and turned to put her hand in the crook of his elbow again. She walked him to the door and pulled out a set of keys. He pulled his arm away and stepped back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where’s Sam?” She gave him another concerned look.

“Odd question to ask when you’re about to get lucky, but I imagine he’s exactly where we left him earlier.” That did not clear things up for Dean in the least, but she’d unlocked the door and was pulling him through it. And then she was kissing him again. Not a quick one either. He took a little longer to catch on than he did last time, but he did kiss back after a minute. She broke away again and moved toward the back of the house. Watching her move, all big brain action ceased. He followed her to a master bedroom where she wasted no time kicking off her shoes into the closet and unzipping her dress. Dean still hadn’t really gotten used to this abruptness of hers, but her naked body kind of distracted him from the strangeness of it all. 

Especially once it started moving toward him again. She chuckled. “I hope I’m not going to have to do all the work.” She said as her hands moved to the bottom of his t-shirt. He kept waiting for his brain to turn back on and catch up. But as the shirt came up over his head and she moved to unbutton his pants, it had a better idea. Go the fuck along with it. He leaned forward to kiss her and pulled her close. On instinct, his hands hooked into her thighs and she wrapped them around his hips. He carried her over to the bed and gently laid her down on it. He slowly slid her panties down her hips and legs and discarded them to the pile that was the rest of their clothes. Then he knelt and placed a kiss between her thighs. Her shudder and gasp drove every remaining thought from his head. She tasted sweet and made all those sounds that went straight from his ears through him to his cock. He licked a stripe straight up her center before sliding a single finger into her core. His head spun at the heat and slick gathered there, slipping in a second for good measure. Her whimpers turned to moans as he took her clit between his lips and swirled it around with his tongue.

“Dean.” Damn, if her voice didn’t have every nerve in his body on fire. He increased his pace and added a third finger to her already clenching pussy, giving her that little bit extra she needed to bring her world crashing down. As it always did, her tightened muscles all around him made his blood sing with heat.

Wait. Always?

“Dean.” She said again, breathlessly, but this time her hand ran through his hair, a beckoning if he ever heard one. He slowly trailed kisses up her body until their eyes met again. Her voice was barely a whisper when she managed half a cocky grin and said “Quit playing around. I’ve been waiting all night.” At her command, he entered her slowly and groaned. She fit him like a glove. A damn snug one.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Where you been all my life?” Her laugh was husky until he slowly drug himself back again when it cut off abruptly. He kept it light, easy in, easy out, making sure to let her feel every inch he filled her with. Then she caught her breath enough to giggle and looked at him with lust-blown blue eyes.

“I thought I asked you to quit playing?” God-fucking-dammit.

“You sure you can handle that, baby? You’re shaking like a leaf already.” And she was. Her walls trembled around his length as he continued to fuck slowly in and out. Her thighs, too, shook against his hips. 

“Only because I'm waiting for you to fuck me like you mean it, Winchester.” She gasped when he twitched inside her and he chuckled, carefully adjusting her hips before locking his fingers in. They'd surely leave little pinpricks of bruises in the morning, but her breath caught again as if she knew what was coming. He smiled because there was no way she did. When he finally began moving again, it was at a brutal pace, hard enough to feel bone on bone at his hips. Maybe he'd have his own set of bruises tomorrow. Her breath came in broken gasps and every exhale was a choked moan as he didn't give her time to get one out before he was causing another. He turned his hands both for a better grip as he pulled her down to meet his thrusts and for the access it gave his thumb to that little bundle of nerves, still swollen from his mouth’s attention. As he dipped the digit down to add pressure to it with each push of his hips, her moans amplified to near shrieks. He loved a screamer. He hoped she didn't have nosy neighbors.

“Come on, baby, come for me.” It was like his voice was all she needed as she bucked hard against him. He could feel his balls beginning to tense and realized one orgasm induced spasm too late that they hadn't discussed… well, anything. So he prayed with all he had that she was okay with him coming inside her, because that was now out of his control. His hips snapped forward a few more times of their own accord before coming to a rest nestled in her own. He leaned forward on his elbows, well beyond out of breath. His eyes were even with her breasts, so he took one of her nipples into his mouth and nipped it gently. He turned his head to look at her again. She was looking at him, grinning.

“What?” He asked.

“I love it when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that was the first time you’d ever had me and it was the best thing ever.” She laughed breathlessly. He didn’t. His head cleared completely. Shit. He was supposed to be hunting djinn. How could he be so stupid? He closed his eyes and palmed his face. Then sat up, gently caressing her likely non-existent knee, and slowly pulled his pants back up. “Where are you going?” Pulling his shirt back on over his head, he turned to kiss her softly one more time.

“Something I gotta do.” Then he left her there to go find the kitchen. Of course the dream had separated him from his car. The weapons in it would have made this far too easy. He found the kitchen and started searching through the drawers until he found one that contained the knives. Palming one, he took a deep breath and for a second wasn’t sure whether he prayed to be right or wrong.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Dylan had appeared on the other side of the island from him. Appeared. That confirmed it.

“I’ve got to go save you.” He said, then plunged the knife into his own gut.

 

Dean woke with a gasp. His entire body ached from the fever of the venom. He felt like he’d just crawled out of his own grave all over again. He looked around. His surroundings were clinical, but not clean. He was lying on an old hospital gurney, Dylan right there by his side, still fully out of it. He groaned as quietly as possible as he yanked his blood syphon bag free and dug his hand into is jeans pocket to retrieve his phone. It was a good thing it was on vibrate, since the calls from Sam probably would have tipped the djinn off that it was there. He texted Sam to look for abandoned hospitals and clinics and put it back in his pocket. Then he laid there for a minute before he started racking his brain for ways to wake Dylan. If he felt this bad, she might not have long. How long had they been out anyway? He pulled the phone out again. It had been 18 hours since they’d arrived at the club. He eased up and yanked the IV out of Dylan’s wrist. He shook her gently, and then roughly. 

“Dylan.” His voice was a croak. He tried to clear it but it felt like that just tore it up more. He looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon, but the room was pretty well and truly empty, besides them and their set-ups. He grabbed the dangling IV with his own blood bag attached and lifted it as much off the ground as he could. It wasn’t much, but it would keep the noise down. Right as he was reaching the door, it opened and he lurched more than lunged at whatever came through it. It was Sam. He caught Dean and held him upright, then pulled him in for a hug. When he held him away again, Sam shook his head.

“They’re all gone. I don’t know what tipped them off, but this place is totally empty. And huge. I’ve been looking for you for a couple of hours.” He saw Dylan laying there and produced a jar of African dream root. 

“The antidotes were gone from the Impala.” He explained. Dean took it from him before he could object, yanked one of Dylan’s hairs out and added it to the mix. “Dean, you look like hell, you don’t need to go back in there yet.” But Dean had already drank it and was seconds away from the rabbit hole. The next time he blinked he was somewhere else entirely. Some kind of park. He looked around and called for Dylan but he couldn’t find her. Finally he stumbled on a playground. There were several sets of kids and adults, but only one in particular caught his attention. She was there, walking around the base of a jungle gym, following a small dark-haired boy. He couldn’t have been more than three. He walked up quietly and put a hand on her shoulder. She froze and the smile she’d been aiming up at the boy faded. When she turned to Dean, she was already starting to cry.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I knew I needed to come help you, but…” She looked back at the baby. Then back to Dean. “You look….terrible.”

“You don’t look too hot yourself outside of here.” He looked at the boy too. “I’m sorry, but it’s time to go.” She nodded through her tears. He pulled her to him and held her for a minute, then looked at her again. “Say your goodbyes and pick your poison.” She went over and reached up to collect the child and held him to her one last time. Then she set him down and turned back to Dean. 

“Does it hurt?”

“You’re already hurting.” He said evasively. She sighed. 

“Give me whatever you got.” He nodded and used the dream root to produce his Colt. He didn’t think he could stab her. He aimed and pulled the trigger, then he was on the gurney again. He sat up slowly and looked over at Dylan. She was awake, but she just lay there.

“Sam.” Dean said to his brother. “Let’s get her the hell out of this place.” He stood and tried, and failed, to pull her up. She ghosted the weakest smile at him and pushed herself up sitting, then standing. They leaned on each other and followed Sam with a rifle in hand through the halls and out of the hospital. Dean was happy to see his car had been retrieved. He slid Dylan into the back seat where she curled back up and zoned out again. He closed the car and looked at Sam over the roof. “She’ll be alright, just needs time.” Sam nodded. 

“What about you?” Dean cracked the same watery smile she’d given him. 

“Oh, me, I’m done for. Have been for a long time. But I’ll make it.” He opened the passenger door and collapsed into the seat. Sam got behind the wheel and took them back to the motel. He looked at Sam. “Head in and pack everything, all right?” When Sam just looked confused Dean shrugged and said simply, “Stairs.” And Sam left. Then Dean opened the door and yelled after him. “Hey! Everything!” He stressed. Sam nodded and continued up the stairs to the second level. Dean turned his head. “Dyl? You still with us?” A grunt came from the back and he sighed and opened the door enough to heave himself out of the car. In the trunk he found a blanket that smelled like… well, a trunk full of guns…. And covered her with it before sitting back in his seat and zoning out for the next 5 hours until home. 

How fucked up was he that his “happy place” was having sex? When did he stop hoping for a full family again? Dylan. That’s what she wanted most. Her family back. But then, she’s probably never had that wish answered just to have it rip her in two all over again. 

Sam had packed and driven in silence for his broken passengers. Once they’d gotten back to the bunker, he’d even unpacked in silence. Dean, now watered, medicated, and rested, opened the door and easily hauled Dylan’s unconscious form from the back seat. He carried her to one of the yet to be used rooms and settled her into the bed. Sam brought her bags, then they left her alone for the kitchen.

“What happened, Dean?” Sam asked as he set a beer in front of his brother. “I’ve seen you come within an inch of death from djinn venom and you’ve never looked this bad.“ Dean shook his head. 

“They tricked me, it took me a long time to realize I was even dreaming. I woke up mostly okay. It’s hers that got me. And that isn’t my business to tell.” Sam nodded and sat quietly again. 

“So what do we do about the djinn?”

“I don’t know. We need to find out why they left two perfectly good meals.” Sam nodded again. 

“I can head back.”

“Not alone, you don’t.” Sam conceded that point.

“I’ll call Garth. He needs to know what’s up anyway.” Dean was pacified by that. He stood and took his beer with him.

“I’ll be in my room.” And then he left Sam to his hunting.

Dean woke a few hours later when Sam came to tell him that he was headed back to Broken Bow with Garth to dig up any leads. They were hoping Garth’s sense of smell could uncover something. Anything to tell them what happened. Dean decided to get up and stay somewhere somewhat open in case Dylan did get up. But almost a full day passed and there wasn’t even any sound from her room. He went and knocked on the door. There wasn’t a sound on the other side. He cracked the door open to find her still asleep. Or asleep again. He closed the door again and went to bed. After almost another full day, he went to check on her. She was still where he’d left her, curled in her bed, but her eyes were open. She lifted her head and sat up against the headboard when she saw him. He brought his untouched sandwich to her and offered the ¾ beer he had left. She smiled sadly and refused both. He sat on the edge of the bed and put them on the nightstand anyway. She put a hand on his arm.

“I’ll be okay, you know. You should have seen me when I first lost him.” 

“Your son?” Dean offered. She nodded slightly, visibly tightening.

“Braeden. He was four. We all get into hunting somehow.” The hollow chuckle didn’t convey any emotion. Then she looked Dean straight in the face again. “I guess if you’re going to get the honor of seeing me fall the fuck apart, you get to know my story too.” 

She steeled herself and began. “Braeden’s dad fell off the face of the earth shortly after making him, so he’s never really been a thing. I was young when I had him. Well, at least I thought I was. Old enough to know better, young enough to not care, you know what I mean.” He nodded. He did. He'd done some epically stupid shit in his twenties. 

“I was still trying to figure out my life as it was, let alone try to take care of another. But it didn’t matter, he loved me anyway. I could be a complete screw up, and I was, and he still looked at me with those eyes and I knew I was still doing at least something right.” He knew that feeling too. He wasn't a parent, but he knew that look when someone thought you were infallible. Their hero. Knew it was especially effective when you had just proved otherwise.

She took a deep breath. “Some local werewolves had gotten a taste for kids. That’s how I met Garth, he came to put them down. He just wasn’t quick enough. They’d grabbed him from that park you saw. Just a week later.” She chuckled without feeling. “Garth felt the same need to drag me home with him after it happened. I’m glad he did and that he trained me to be a hunter, I could never have faced anybody I ever knew again. I’d always be pitied, treated like glass. I can’t stand that.” Her face went from soft, emotionless expressions to a hard mask.

“Imagine my surprise, though, when I discovered he was actually one of the same monsters that had torn my baby boy to pieces.” She took a deep breath and relaxed again. “It took a couple of years before I spoke to him again.” Dean nodded. Man, he hated hunter origin stories. They were always the kind of thing that changed your entire view of the person in front of you. 

“He gets to live as long as he’s living the vegan life.” 

“Yeah, he mentioned you threatened him personally. That’s why I figured I’d like you before he called.” He grinned and leaned forward to hug her and kissed her forehead. At that, she looked surprised. He was too, but he got up smoothly to cover it. 

“Well, you can stay here as long as you need. Not out of pity, mind you, we need some pretty around here.” He left before she could ask him what that had been about. 

He’d be damned if he ever told anybody what he’d been dreaming of while he and Dylan were lying there dying…


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably know what's next

“So you and Garth think you got the trail?” 

“Yeah, we’re going to investigate some more before we come back for you though.” Sam said over the phone. “How’s Dylan?” Dean looked back toward the rooms.

“It’s been a rough week. She’s tough though.” And she was. The last couple of days she’d actually been venturing out of her room to help him research. She was starting to get back to the irreverent live-wire he’d first encountered, but she still spent half the day in bed.

“And you?” 

“Hey, you know me, I’m just goin stir crazy here.”

“Yeah, I know, we’ll let you know once we get a better idea of where we’re at.” Dean saw Dylan come out of the hallway out of the corner of his eye. 

“Keep in touch. And be careful. Bye.” he hung up. She had showered and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. He noticed a little swirling of black ink under the hem of her shirt, where it didn’t quite meet the waistband of her jeans. Well, he definitely wanted to know what that was. Dream Dylan hadn’t had any tattoos. But he hadn’t known this one did at the time. 

_You just want to know if the real thing is as good as your imagination._

He hated the little voice in the back of his head. It was usually an asshole. And rarely wrong. Dylan grinned at him in the kitchen. 

“Ah, a man who cooks. Remind me how you live in this giant hobbit hole with only your brother for company?” He slid a pancake onto a stack of them and slid it to her. 

“I snore.” He said sardonically as he poured more batter into the pan.

“That’ll do it. Where is your brother by the way?” She said, digging in.

“Broken Bow with Garth. They think they may have a lead on what happened to the djinn.” He waved his phone. “Waiting to hear final word.” She nodded.

“Sorry we missed them.”

“I wish we’d missed them more.” muttered Dean.

“Huh?”

“Ah, it’s no big deal, we’ll still get em. So, I have a question that might seem strange.” She looked bemused.

“Strange for us? Color me intrigued. Shoot.” 

“What’s the last thing you remember before we were poisoned?” She thought hard. 

“I believe…. I had just kissed you. Shortly after that. Why?”

“No reason. The djinn’s tricked me. Made my dream look like the club. Wanted to know what was what.” Dylan raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” Dean turned off the stove and turned away, ignoring her. He heard the scrape of her chair as she got up and felt her come to stand behind him, he just kept eating. “Worried I never actually kissed you?” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Can’t hurt to know where I stand, does it?” Now that he had an out, he turned and grinned at her. Her eyebrow rose again.

“Somewhere above awful and below spectacular.” He leaned against the refrigerators and crossed his arms. That made him a little defensive.

“You caught me off guard.” She shrugged.

“You are more than welcome to give it another shot. But first impressions are every-” He cut her off by pulling her to him and covering her mouth with his. This was actually much better than the real kiss or the dream ones. He’d been distracted during the real one and the fake ones were all built on that. Her lips had the perfect give under his own, and when she invited his tongue in, she wasn’t nearly as pushy as her personality. It didn’t help him not want to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his room either. And somehow, even if she was acting fine now, he guessed she wouldn’t be up for that. 

Yet, she seemed to be the one with the wandering hands. It startled him when her hand hit skin under his shirt. She broke off and chuckled. “For a hunter, you’re extremely jumpy.” She pulled away from him and started for the door. She stopped at the threshold and turned back. “You coming or not?” He clipped his hip on the worktop trying to get around it quick enough. She laughed and started back down the hall.

He almost had time to get nervous as he followed her back to her room. What if this stack up to his dream version of her? Who was he kidding. He wasn’t going to stack up next to his dream self. In reality, it had been a while. If he didn’t blow his load before he even got inside her, he’d consider that a win. But then they were there. In her room. And she was pulling that slightly too-short t-shirt over her head. He had an excellent view from the door, her back to him. That wasn’t the design he’d seen before, stretching across her shoulder blades and down the sides of her spine, only interrupted by the strap of her bra for a moment, then even that was gone. He realized he was just standing there staring at it when she turned to see if he was even there. He cleared his throat.

“You, uh, you have angel wings.” He felt himself give her a lopsided grin at the irony of it. He regretted it as her face turned self-conscious. 

“Yeah… um, got them before I knew that was a thing. Dumb twenties stuff, you know?” He stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her to pull her to him, leaving just enough room to run his other hand down the design.

“I like em.” He smoothed the hand on her front up to a breast and took it into his palm, lowering his mouth to her neck. Oh yeah. This view suited him just fine.The breast in his hand, much nicer than he’d imagined, by the way, was a soft brown, like the rest of her skin. Either she was a fan of topless tanning or this was her natural color all over. He couldn’t wait to find out if there were any lines anywhere else. As his fingers worked her nipple into a hardened peak, her breath came slightly more heavily, shuddering with every third or fourth when he’d give it a small squeeze. Responsive. He liked that. But he was already growing uncomfortable in his jeans, so he either needed to concentrate on her or take this up a notch. He decided on the former. Like she’d pointed out before, first impressions and all that. He brought his other hand around her side to the front of her jeans, undoing the button slower than he normally would, giving her the option to object. He hadn’t forgotten what a fragile state she was in just a few days ago.

Working the zipper down just as slowly, he switched his left hand to her other breast, the first now a warm pleasant weight on his forearm. He’d covered every inch of her left shoulder and neck in open mouthed kisses so he moved his head to her other side, working his way around via the back of her neck. This also gave him a little more reach with his right hand as he slipped his hand under the thin material of her panties. They were already damp. His breath shuddered through his nose as much as hers in her throat when he slipped a single digit between her folds to find her slick and wanting. He made a deep noise in his chest.

“Ready to go, aren’t you, sweetheart?” She heaved a breathy laugh, head tilted back on his shoulder.

“God yes. You really have a talent, you know that?” He chuckled.

“So I’ve been told.” He straightened and pushed her slightly toward the bed. She didn’t need the verbal instruction to lay down. He tried not to draw any similarities as he knelt between her legs to hook his fingers into the waistband of her jeans. The were a little tight, she had to shimmy her hips to help him pull them down, then she was bare except the small barrier of cotton between him and what he really wanted. He reached for those as well, only to find a hand on his chest. He looked up at her, breath catching, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind, but he’d go stick himself in a cold shower if he needed to. She was grinning at him.

“You have me at quite the disadvantage.” She said, hooking her fingers in his T-shirt. He grinned back and rocked back on his knees to reach down and pull the hem over his head, tossing it behind him carelessly. When he leaned back over her to reach for the waist of her panties again, she was smiling wider, her hands coming back to his chest with a satisfied noise that made the insecure side of him very happy. He was getting more and more self conscious with himself as he got older, so the fact that she so obviously liked what she saw was a huge stroke to the old ego. Oof. Wrong line of thinking. Nope, stroking is bad. Very bad. “Something wrong, there, cowboy?” She asked, her head tilting as he realized he’d actually frozen with his concentration on backing down the pressure in his erection. He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Bit of a hair trigger right now, baby. And you’ve really got your finger on it.” She chuckled again and reached for the button on his jeans. He pulled his hips away with an appreciative grin. “You first, sweetheart. Lay back down.” She didn’t, though, just batted his hand away from her hip and slid further under him, reaching the button and having the whole fly released in a breath. The combined release of pressure and general attraction of the action had him releasing a heavy breath as he rocked back on his knees again. She smirked at him and tugged until his cock sprang free of his boxers with almost its own sigh of relief.

“I’ll keep. Turnabout’ll give you time to recover.” She said with a wink.

“Turna-” The word was lost in a groan as she licked her lips and popped the head of his dick past them. He would’ve been knocked literally on his ass, except the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his base for support was gripping it. His hands threaded through her soft black curls as she took him deeper, the pressure around the head becoming exquisite as she pushed it toward the back of her throat. He breathed mostly through his nose, still fighting off the urge to come immediately. Her tongue snaked up the sensitive underside on a downstroke and he choked on his own curse. “Fuck! Sweetheart, you keep that up-” She did it again and his vision left him for a second, feeling his hips buck into her mouth, the heat leaving his cock in short spurts. He groaned again as she continued to work him, swallowing him down, until he grunted from the sensitivity and then she popped him free with another smirk, wiping the edges of her mouth with a thumb. Christ. He might be in love. “I tried to warn ya.” He said breathlessly, happy to lean forward on his hands into her retreat. Her smirk stayed.

“Really meant it about that hair trigger, huh?” He winced.

“That’s, uh, _not_ the norm.” She surprised him when her laughter wasn’t derisive.

“Oh, I know. You have a reputation, Winchester.” He was taken aback by that. He’d been with, hell, most of the female hunters he’d come across. And she seemed to know that. In true hunter fashion, she didn’t seem to care, but the fact that it seemed to add to his list of pros instead of cons for her was yet another boost to his self-confidence. He would most _definitely_ be ready for round two by the time he got her ready again. He’d make damn sure of it. Couldn’t let the lady down, could he? “We all get dry spells.” Christ. Again. He didn’t say it, would have been too deja vu for him, but he definitely thought about where this woman had been hiding all his life. He skipped over her midsection and lowered her all the way to the mattress with his body. When he licked into her mouth, her tongue rose to meet his without hesitation. The salty taste of him was thick on it, ramping him up even more. 

His hands began to roam again, he wanted to remember the feel of every bump of bone, every line of scar on this one. She was… really something else. Everywhere he touched, he felt her respond, with a twitch, a roll of her hips, a moan against his lips. He loved it. When he’d finally memorized every detail he could easily reach, he pulled away from her and grinned. 

“Now. Where was I?” He backed up until he was between her thighs again, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties, pulling them slowly down and away. He kept eye contact as he lowered himself to swipe his tongue thickly up her center. He chuckled when her hips bucked and placed a large hand over them to hold her still, lapping at her few more times before sliding two fingers into her entrance, making her gasp at the sudden intrusion. She was already grabbing at his hair, her pussy trying to find more length to pull in, so he pulled his head back, rotating his hand on her hips to dip his thumb back down against the bundle of nerves, just giving it a few small nudges to send her tumbling over that edge. The strength of the muscles clenching and pulling on his fingers made his jaw go slack. That would _not_ be something he planned on missing once he was inside her. He smiled down at her as she came back to earth. “Now who has the hair trigger?” She was breathing heavily, still twitching slightly around the fingers he still had in her channel. She gave him a crooked grin.

“Shut up, Winchester.” He withdrew his hand with a groan of protest from her and turned his head to kiss her inner thigh. 

“Be back in just a second, sweetheart. Just gonna grab a condom from my room.” She lifted up on her elbows to look at him.

“Or you could just reach in the front pocket of that duffle over there.” He raised an eyebrow and pointed to it. She nodded and he angled his head.

“A woman that comes prepared. I like it.” He did as she instructed and returned to the bed. She was up now, rolled to her knees on the edge of the bed. He stopped, looking her over fully now. He saw the design he’d glimpsed earlier curling along her hip. A rose with some sort of curlique backdrop behind it. It was a faded dusky pink, implying it to be another ‘dumb twenties’ decision. Hell, there are worse mistakes to make, he thought. Her skin was scarred in places, like all hunters, the little white pucker lines adding to her beauty in his eyes instead of detracting from it. Smooth, unblemished skin just meant you hadn’t done anything worth mentioning. This woman had some stories to tell. Her curves were shallow, and he allowed his hand to trace along them on her left side coming to rest on that flower as she reached to take the foil packet from him. Other hand free, he let it mimic the trail its brother had taken on her other side, drawing small circles with his thumbs on her hip bones as she slipped the sheath of rubber over his new erection, paying special attention to the line of raised flesh just below and to the right of her navel. A knife wound if he ever saw one. Probably lucky to be alive. Not as lucky as him right now though. He lowered himself back to her mouth to taste her again. She didn’t give him space to get back on the bed, so he lifted her by her hips to get under them. Blue eyes met his green ones as she lined her own entrance up with the head of his cock. It was probably only a couple of seconds, but it seemed like forever before he began to sink inside and he brought his hands up her body to frame her jaw as he dropped his head and drug in a deep breath. “Fuuuuck.” He exhaled slowly. She came to a stop when their hips met.

“Gonna be okay over there?” She asked, but her voice was wavering too. He looked up again and stroked his thumb along the underside of her jaw.

“Someday. _Goddamn you feel good_.” Her lips quirked a little, trying to keep that cool exterior, but he could tell she was just as scrambled inside as he was just then.

“Not so bad yourself.” She leaned in for a kiss and he felt her calves tense next to his thighs as she lifted herself back up along his length, dragging him along her walls as she went. Neither of them were really breathing. She began to roll her hips against his, a steady rhythm that was more relaxed and familiar than it had any right to be. Like she knew exactly what to do for him. His hands couldn’t make up their minds where to settle, so they just moved back and forth between her hips and head as he lost himself in that the feel of her and those pools of blue. The skin like dark brown sugar, damp with sweat everywhere he touched. His hands found where they wanted; the place just under her ribs, just behind them, perfect for leaning her forward to pull one of those perfect nipples to his mouth, rolling it under his tongue. It sent shocks straight to her core, causing her to pulse around him with each stroke and him to groan. He pulled back just enough to reach a hand behind her head and pull her mouth down. He let her ride a couple more strokes, timing the rhythm just right so that he was buried in her when he twisted to roll her beneath him. 

He did his best to not interrupt, just rolling straight into control with increasing intensity, letting his hand trail down her side and thigh, pulling it gently back up to his hip for better reach. “God, Dean.” She breathed, small noises escaping her with each breath. He changed his angle, trying to find that sweet spot that allowed him to stroke her both inside and out. He knew when he had it. “Oh. My god. _Dean_!” He grinned and didn’t dare change a thing as she ratcheted up toward another orgasm, but he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it that far. She was writhing beneath him, trying to find that _extra_ something somewhere, but not wanting to move too much any more than he did, for fear of losing what she had. He was temporarily at a loss for what more to do for her. Then he decided to throw caution to the wind. It worked in dream-land, right?

“Come for me, sweetheart.” She let out a small cry and he felt those strong floor muscles first hand as she did just as he asked. It wasn’t like the dream. He didn't slow down, because couldn’t move _at all_. All of his muscles locked up in response, a remarkable feat for his second time coming in the hour. He had to pull out as soon as he was able because she was still riding aftershocks that squeezed him almost painfully. 

Christ, the fucking condom hurt right now. He disposed of it and fell back beside her, exhaling all the breath in his lungs and dragging them full again. Working an arm under her, he pulled her into his side for that contact he always craved as he came down from that high. She settled into the dip of his shoulder nicely. They lay there, listening to each other’s pulse rates come down. It felt like it had been years since he’d been this content.

His phone rang from his pants, somewhere on the other side of the bed. He groaned. Of frickin course. He made to get up but she tightened her grip on his arm. He stopped and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, head rested right over his heart and the warding tattoo placed there, a small smile on her lips. 

“It’s prob’ly Sam.” He urged, words slurring a bit in his relaxed state.

“I know. And I want to go kill some stuff too, but unless that phone has teleporting powers I don’t know about, he’s still gotta drive back, doesn’t he?” He gave her that. Hours. They had hours at least. He _could_ even be calling to tell him their lead didn’t pan out and they were back to square one. _Or_ he was calling to tell him they were in over their head and to jack a car if he had to. He sighed and tapped her shoulder. 

“Sorry, gotta get it.” He said, extricating himself and answering just before it went to voicemail.

“Hey man. What's up?” Sam was quiet for a second.

“You sound...weird.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, what did you call about?” There was a beat of silence before his brother answered.

“Okay, so get this, Garth and I traced the owners of the the building where I found you guys and the vehicles they were using to this-” Dean lost his concentration as he felt his brother going into one of his nerd rants that always sounded like a bunch of made up words anyway. His eyes found Dylan lying beside him, looking right back at him. Fuck whatever came next, that image burned into his brain was worth it. “Dean, this is a lot bigger than we thought.”

“Okay, half of that sounded like mumbo jumbo to me. English, poindexter.”

“Djinn are in Denver. A buttload of them, we think.”

"All right, awesome, how long before you get here?” 

“I don’t know, Dean? Are you sure you’re up for it? Is she? You seem a little rattled still.” Rattled’s a damn good word for it.

“Trust me, totally unrelated. We’re good. Great, actually. Ready to go.”

“Okay.” His brother still sounded unsure. “I guess I’ll pack up and start that way then.”

“Cool. See you then.” He hung up and turned back to Dylan. “Looks like we’re headed to Colorado. You still in?” She raised an eyebrow.

“This is my hunt, Dean. Yeah, I’m still in.” He nodded. He could respect that. He could respect the hell out of that. “How far is Broken Bow? Three hours?” He considered that. With his driving, sure. With Sam’s?

“Maybe more.” She grinned at him and came closer.

“Guess we better make the best of the time we’ve got.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, it's all hunt from here on out. Little angst at the end.

“Hey fellas.” Garth said as they entered a hotel room some twelve hours later.

“How's it going Garth?” Dean accepted his hug from the strange little werewolf and he moved on to Dylan.

“Dyl, my girl, you're looking amazing, as usual.” He held her out at arms length. “Well, look at you. Sam told me what happened in Broken Bow, but I can tell you're both doing just fine.” He wrapped an arm across Dylan's and Dean’s shoulders. Dean looked hard at the man. “Showers don't hide everything.” Dean squirmed out from under Garth's arm.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Garth used his free arm to indicate Dylan. 

“Eu de Dean.” Dean shook his head.

“Well that's not creepy.” 

“Wait, what, Garth, are you saying…?” Sam looked between the other three people in the room that knew exactly what Garth meant. “Really, Dean?!” He said in exasperation. 

“Hey, she started it.” Dean said. Garth nodded sagely.

“I can believe that.”

“And I’m sure you fought her tooth and nail.” Came Sam’s sarcastic reply. He rolled his eyes. “So, Garth, you got a 20 on them yet?”

“Yessir.” Garth said cheerfully, totally fine with the sudden subject change. He went over to the laptop on the table and turned it around. On the screen was a map with about ten red dots on it.

“Okay, so, which one is the djinn?” Dean asked.

“All of em.” Garth said. Everyone was quiet for a minute then Dean broke the silence again.

“Care to explain that?”

“What we have here, boys, is a djinn convention. Last few weeks, there have been about 40 disappearances from here to Boulder. Each of these markers is an abandoned building at the center of a radius of the abductions.” They all looked at each other. 

“I don't think we brought enough lambs blood.” Dylan said. 

“Yeah, or enough hunters.” Sam added. “How many of them are there?” Garth just shrugged. 

“Dunno. Could be one at each point, could be three or four. Never seen a gathering of them like this.”

“And we can't just start with the closest and work our way out, by the time we got halfway done, the rest would scatter.” Dylan said.

“We got anybody in the area, Garth?” Dean asked. Garth grimaced.

“Not really. Our numbers are pretty low these days.” They were all quiet again.

“Maybe we can get them to come to us.” Dylan said. The guys all looked to her. “One or two hunters wouldn't be enough to make them all run….”

“Do all of your plans require us to use ourselves as bait?” Dean asked, annoyed.

“Work smarter, not harder, Dean.” She gave him a grim smile. 

“Yeah, well, you're going to be one of the ones waiting this time.” She scoffed.

“And where do you get off thinking you're going to tell me what I'm going to do?” 

“Dean's right, Dyl.” Garth held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Hear me out. Y'alls extracurricular activities aside, you're both still recovering. And if we run into the same djinn that took you guys, they're going to know something's up. Neither of you should go.”

“Wait just a minute…” Dean began.

“What's good for the gander is good for the goose, Dean.” Garth chastised. “Besides, neither of you are benched, we're going to need help once all their friends show up.” Garth turned to Sam. “So we'll head to this place,” he pointed to a dot on the map. “It's one of the most central locations. We'll take out that nest and we'll see what happens. If they don't come running, we'll do another, and rinse and repeat until they come to get rid of the nuisance.” Sam nodded. “Now, Dean, you and Dylan, follow and keep a distance so you don't tip them off. We'll let you know when it's time to come help.” Dean just grunted in response. 

A few hours later, Dean and Dylan were waiting in silence, sitting in the Impala a mile out from the condemned apartment building Garth and Sam were checking out. Dylan suddenly turned to Dean.

“Look, next time you get the idea to tell me what I can and can't do, just don't. Just because we slept together doesn't mean you get to boss me around.” Dean went from surprised to angry in record time.

“I'm not going to apologize for trying to save your ass!”

“You had no problem sending Garth or Sam in there! I don't need any more protecting than they do!”

“Sweetheart, just because we slept together doesn’t mean you know me, either. My brother being in there, without me, is _killing_ me. And I like Garth, but he’s got a bit of an advantage. I doubt the djinn have any silver handy. So don’t tell me I’m fine here. If I had my way, it’d be you and Sam here.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one that gets to put their life on the line. We get hurt, Dean. We die, and hopefully we help some people along the way, that's the job! I’d think you’d know better than anyone that sometimes shit gets risky.” Dean stopped at that.

“The whole reason you called Garth in the first place was to give you the best chance against these things-” She interrupted him.

“Yeah, help, not some overprotective macho asshole that just wants me to sit around waiting for him to come back and tell me how the hunt went.” 

“You’re in over your head, Dylan. You know that, that’s why you called.”

“We’re all _collectively_ in over our heads. Fewer heads does not make that less true.”

Dean had nothing to say to that. Just then his phone rang with a text. It simply said ‘GO’. This wasn’t what they’d discussed and his first thought was that Sam was telling him to run. He started the car and slammed it into gear. He’d put Baby into the wall of the building before he left Sammy in there. He slid the car into park right at the door of the building. Barrelling out and through the door, he left Dylan to catch up, but she was right on his heels. There were the sounds of a fight echoing faintly above them. Dean turned to the right and took the stairs two at a time until the noise was close, then exited the stairwell into the hallway and was nearly stunned by the scene. There were glowing blue flames everywhere. At least 15 djinn were in the long hallway, the nearest 10 feet away. 

Garth was alone at the end of the hall, claws and fangs bared, tearing into the djinn, and having about as much effect on them as they did on him. Sam was nowhere in sight. Dean unsheathed his knife, already having been dipped in lambs blood, and Dylan did too. Together, they dove into the flank of the djinn army, taking them by surprise. Dean had two down and Dylan three before they knew what was happening. Two descended on each of them, hands glowing. Dean plunged his knife into one while he held the arm of the other at bay. Then he turned and buried it in the one slipping through Dylan’s defenses and finished the second one of his own. He lost track of her after that, as he was busy with the four that came next. It wasn’t until he stabbed one that Garth had by the throat that he stopped to look around again. The hallway was littered with bodies. 

Dylan was standing just a little ways away, chest heaving, but she gave him a quick nod to let her know she was okay. Dean looked back to Garth, but he was busy retracting his fangs and claws. Once he looked normal again, besides the djinn blood around his mouth, he opened the door behind him. “Sam’s here.” 

Sam was lying in a heap in the middle of the room on the other side of the door. It looked like Garth had tossed him in and shut the door on him and had been guarding him when Dean came along. He’d obviously been dosed with djinn poison. Dean pulled the antidote out of his pocket and gave it to Sam, who woke within a minute. Sam sat up slowly and looked past Dean to the hallway, eyes widening at the carnage. “Missed all the fun, brother.” Dean smirked and stood up, Sam did too, though a little more slowly.

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” He said shakily. Dean clapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess her plans aren’t all terrible.” They stepped back into the hallway. Garth was crouched in front of Dylan, who’d sat down against the wall, and they were talking quietly. Dylan’s eyes met his as he approached and Garth stood. Dean extended his hand to help her up. She took it and hauled herself to her feet. He pulled her in for a hug. “You were right.” He said in a low tone. He let her go. “You handled yourself just fine.” She smirked at Garth. 

“You owe me five bucks.” Garth grinned.

“Gladly, my lady.” Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who just shrugged, but smiled a little too. He gestured for them all to head down the stairs. 

They all went back to the hotel and packed their things. Dean threw his bag in the trunk of the Impala, then held it open for Sam and waited for Dylan to throw her stuff in too. She paused when she saw him waiting and looked uncomfortable for a second.

“I’m just have Garth drop me back at my car in Broken Bow. You guys have already done so much.” She tossed her bag in Garth’s truck while Dean slammed the trunk shut, then she walked over to him. “I do appreciate all your help. Both of you.” She added with a look at Sam. “Hope our paths cross again.” 

“You know how to find us.” Sam told her. She smiled at him.

“I do.” She leaned up on her toes and kissed Dean’s cheek, squeezing his arm before she turned back to the truck. Dean watched her go, hands in his pockets. Garth waved goodbye before he climbed in himself. 

“You boys take care, all right?” He didn’t get in the car until they had turned onto the road and were out of sight. 

“You gonna be okay?” Sam asked, looking at him with those damn puppy dog eyes. Dean grunted.

“Yeah. Mean, s’not like we can do relationships, right?” Dean started the car and put it in reverse.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “With another hunter, it might work.” He looked at his brother.

“Us. Personally.”

“Yes, us personally. Any relationship we’ve ever had before has been with a civilian who didn’t stand a chance of protecting themselves from bad things that want to get to us.”

“We’ve known plenty of hunters that couldn’t do it either.” Dean countered.

“Yeah, but they knew what they were doing. What the stakes were. They had the information to make that choice.”

“And they died for it.”

“That’s part of it. Hunters know that.” 

“Being around us tends to swing the odds in favor of it!” Dean half-shouted. Sam raised his hands in defeat.

“Fine. Believe what you want. Just saying it’s a possibility.”

Dean scowled and finally reversed out of the parking space and started home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. I did the thing. I tried, anyway.
> 
> Thanks for making it this far.


End file.
